


In Which Dave and Karkat are Both Need Someone to Feelings Jam With and it All Goes From There

by theknightofdoom



Category: Homestuck
Genre: All the Smut, Depression, Insomnia, M/M, Meteor fic, Sadstuck, Sorry Not Sorry, and fluff, and shit, but first tears, kinda i guess, me ranting through dave and calling it fanfiction, there will be smut, too many tags gurl, two knights one meteor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2750699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theknightofdoom/pseuds/theknightofdoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Karkat are both having some deep and depressing thoughts while alone on the meteor and need someone to talk to.</p>
<p>Who better than a fellow Class member? </p>
<p>But when you wallow in your pity around someone else wallowing in their own long enough, you start to share pity. And pitying one another is an inevitable thing that they can't escape, no matter how hard they try.</p>
<p>(MAINLY BECAUSE IT IS MY OTP MUAHAHAHAHAHA)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Dave and Karkat are Both Need Someone to Feelings Jam With and it All Goes From There

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a thing.
> 
> It may or may not be the first time I wrote a proper fanfiction fully and posted it somewhere. 
> 
> I plan on making multiple chapters, detailing their relationship developing over time. This is kinda that annoying filler chapter where I establish what the flying fuck is meant to be going on. You know. Not-really-plot-but-kinda stuff.
> 
> Also I apologize for most of this chapter being me ranting through an assumingly depressed fictional character and labeling it "fanfiction."
> 
> I'll shut up now.

You can't take anymore of this silence. It rings in your ears, an emptiness that somehow manages to fill you completely. Everything was too much - the fluorescent lights that flickered and blinked constantly were too bright, the endless metal and concrete and open space was too cold, and the never ending silence was _too loud_.

You couldn't take this anymore. When you were playing the game - on that short time that seemed to last for days, weeks, months even - you didn't have time to think. You didn't have time to stop and consider how everyone and everything that had ever existed on Earth, millions and billions of years and living things that had never seen the end coming were gone. It was terrifying to realize. That in one small amount of time, in not even a day, everything was destroyed. The people and the animals and everything in-between. The history and the culture. Centuries were wasted in such a small frame of time.

Time. You were made of it. You could control it, or so others believed. But you can't really control it at all. Time doesn't let itself be manipulated, because even if you ignore it, even if you try to take away it's existence and deny it, it's still there. Just because you break all the clocks and stop the ticking and the tocking, just because you stop counting to the beat under your breath, just because you forget it's there doesn't mean it's gone. You can't control time - no, you can simply move through it. It gives you more freedom, letting you move through it and understand it - but really time is always in control. You can only do what it lets you.

But even though you could do this, you always seemed to have the wrong amount of time. You had such a short period in which to finish the game, but then three years to waste away on this meteor until anything productive could be done again. And it was in those three years where everything went wrong, but also the weirdest kind of right. Even though during the game you didn't have time to think about everything, about how there wasn't an everything to think about anymore, once you got to the meteor you had all the time in the no longer existent world to mourn and think. Thinking and mourning until it all blended together into a sad and empty excuse for a life, just watching the time slip through your fingers passively.

It wasn't like that at first. No, it was not like it at all. Everything was still new and exciting and happening all at once like before - they were somewhere new yet again, and there were new people to meet and new things to learn. Everything was pretty great. You got to know Terezi rather well. Spending the days building a metropolis of cans, painting with chalk, seeing with smells, talking with a loud and friendly laughter. You grew close, not that you already weren't rather so. In fact it got to the point where you may have even entertained the thought of being in love, but now you don't remember quite too well.

It seemed like things could only go up, but you were wrong. You started to realize the things that you had pushed away in the first months. That everything was so fragile and could end so quickly. That you and them were only kids. That they were all that was left.

She must of gotten bored, fed up with the looming cloud that seemed to follow you everywhere. Or at least that's what you told yourself. You couldn't blame her for finding refuge in someone else - someone who had always been broken, so he showed the allusion of being fixed. Her hatemance with the juggalo hurt, even though it was in another quadrant and wasn't technically cheating. You couldn't deal with the quadrants and she wasn't there when you needed her most, and when she was she smelt of faygo and rubber, raving about her hate for Gamzee. It _hurt_ that she choose him, it hurt that she wasn't there and it hurt that she lied about the whole thing to try and hide it. You tried to keep up some form of relationship with her after whatever you had ended, but it was hard. You took to spending time with your ectosister instead.

But Rose had started to notice too. You don't know of her realization was before or after yours, and if you were responsible for one another's, but you know she did. You wished she hadn't, because that was one of the many things that pushed her to the alcohol. It was terrible, watching her lose herself to an endless swirl of intoxication and secret tears, but you couldn't help. If you tried she would only mention the things you both knew, and you couldn't lie to her to make her feel better. You tried to help, but you were so broken yourself that it was useless.

Kanaya seemed strong however. Sure, this was most likely an illusion and she was having her own inner battles like everyone else, dealing with her change into a rainbow drinker amongst other things, but somehow she still managed to be there for Rose. You were glad your sister had someone like her to care for her, and you hoped that the fact they were both fighting addictions of their own didn't ruin their blooming romance.

It got to the point where you couldn't stand to be around any of the three. You hated what you couldn't stop your sister from becoming, you hated what you had let become of your relationship with your ex and you hated that you left everything for Kanaya to deal with.

The only one you could stand was the Mayor. He would always be there, ready to listen. You sometimes wondered if he ever got bored of listening, since that's all he would ever do, other than pass you chalk and point to where and what you had to change in can town. You decided however he could have just walked away, left you mid-rant. You didn't always rant. Sometimes you'd rap, or you'd cry. He never once judged you. He may not of been able to speak, but the look in his eyes was understanding and the short hugs he would give you were kind.

But even so, there was only so much of the Mayor you could take. You would get fed up of the feel of chalk under the rough pads of your fingers, reminding you of her, and the pitiful looks he gave you sometimes only made you feel worse. It wasn't his fault. You tried to hang out with him as much as possible despite this.

It was at this time, when you were alone and wallowing in your own despair, when it happened. Just like with everything else, at first your relationship with Karkat was (arguably) completely normal, stable. You'd argue and bicker over the stupidest things, but your banter was a given that you both relied on after everything started to go downhill. But, in the end, even your unspoken agreement to irritate the fuck out of one another was broken. You both had withdrawn into yourselves and were too busy being - quite honestly - depressed to hold it up.

It had been late at night. You can't recall the exact time, even though normally when it comes to knowledge about time you were the one to compete with. But it had been late at night, or maybe it was early in the morning. It didn't really make a difference, but everyone was - or at least, should've been - sleeping. You had woken up suddenly, panting shallowly and sweating profusely. You were burning inside, but your skin was incredibly cold.

You had sat up, hair matted messily to your forehead and mouth dry, trying to calm your spinning head. You had had a nightmare, although as always, you couldn't remember what it was the second you awoke. You were exhausted, body feeling weak and fragile, but you couldn't go back to sleep. Partly because you knew that it wouldn't work, partly because you didn't want to after such a horrible dream and partly because your room was beginning to give you cabin fever.

You had decided foggily to leave the confinement of your room, clumsily untangling yourself from your bed covers and stumbling into the corridor. You walked for a long time, just following the empty, winding corridors and trying to make sense of everything in your head. You felt maybe you were ill. Had you somehow managed to get yourself a fever? You didn't know, and all of your thoughts were jumbled up and unfinished, much to your irritation.

During this lack of concentration and probably consciousness, you had tripped, hurtling towards the hallways hard floor before you could of even made sense of the situation. By the time you finally realized what had happened, you had been lying in the middle of the meteor’s corridor, face into the ground for a lengthy period of buzzing lights. Your ass had been producing in the air, and your left arm (or at least, you think) had been twisted weirdly underneath you. The sharp and chilly metal was digging into your cheek, but it was a welcome change, and you decided to stay in this position. This was mainly due to poor judgement on your behalf, as you were hardly thinking straight, but you were tired and the floor suddenly didn't seem like to bad of an option. There was no way you would go back to your room, or at least, not yet.

You had been pretty much passed out cold like this when he found you, nudging you forcefully with his foot. Although you don’t remember exactly what he said, you feel it was something along the lines of “What the everloving shitchewing fuck are you doing on the floor, Strider?”, probably in a (understandably) confused tone. You had decided to just ignore him and try to go back into your nightmareless almost-sleep.

This, however, didn't go down too well with him. And you were about to find that out.


End file.
